


Chase the Morning

by Claire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-15
Updated: 2009-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 01:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/pseuds/Claire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's still riding on the high of victory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chase the Morning

They all but fall through the door to the motel room, Dean kicking a foot out behind him to close it, to save the middle-aged woman behind them from being scandalized at the way his hands are pulling at Castiel's trousers, the way his teeth are biting at Castiel's lower lip.

The smell of smoke and sulphur surround them, but Dean's still riding on the high of victory, so he doesn't give a shit what his clothes smell like.

"Gotta have you, Cas--" he murmurs, breaking his lips away from Castiel's skin long enough to get the words out.

"Sam--" Because, for some reason, Castiel has a thing about not wanting to fuck Dean in front of Sam.

"With Ruby," Dean answers. Which means he won't be back tonight, which means he's doing exactly the same thing Dean is doing right now and hoping to bury himself in a warm, willing partner - even if his came to earth in the up elevator instead of the down.

And the answer's enough, thank fuck, because Cas is sinking to his knees, grace and perfection in each movement as he reaches out to Dean's jeans, tugging at the belt and opening them.

Dean thinks he should help, thinks it would go quicker with four sets of fingers instead of two, but his hands end up on Cas's head instead of at his jeans, tangling into soft hair, as his cock is released from its confines.

"Jesus, fuck, _yes_ \--"

Words wrenched from Dean's throat as his cock is swallowed, as the tightening grip on his thigh is the only indication that Castiel heard the blaspheming words.

There's tongue and teeth, and Dean wonders how an angel of the Lord became such a good cocksucker, became so adept at being on his knees with a dick in his mouth. And then Castiel licks a line up his cock, tongue swirling around the head and Dean stops wondering and starts just being really fucking grateful.

His fingers tighten in Cas's hair, pulling the angel closer, and Dean knows if this was anyone else they'd be pushing him off right now, coughing and gagging instead of taking his cock deeper. But Castiel just hums, fucking _hums_ , as a hand comes up to cup Dean's balls and roll them in his fingers.

And Dean can feel it, fire and heat and want, gathering in his stomach. He can feel it with every vibration through Castiel's throat and into his cock. The hand cupping his balls moves and a finger presses against his asshole, slick and smooth as it slides inside him and Dean is coming, screaming and emptying himself into Cas's mouth as the world goes grey around him.

Dean's absurdly thankful for the wall behind him because he's pretty sure he'd be on the floor right now if it wasn't there. And there's banging on the wall coming from next door (fuck 'em, it's not like they've just been blown by an angel), and Castiel's still on his knees, tongue swiping at the corner of his mouth to catch a dribble of Dean's come. And Dean's cock twitches at the sight, but he's not seventeen anymore, more's the fucking pity.

"Bed?" Castiel asks, voice too smooth for having had Dean's cock down his throat, and rising to his feet in one sinuous motion.

"Bed." Dean nods, word breaking slightly in the middle as he pushes himself away from the wall and wills his still unsteady legs to hold him.

Dean knows he's less than graceful as he makes his way across the room, jeans around his thighs and strands of Castiel's hair in his hands where he'd pulled too hard when he was coming. He knows he's less than graceful as he collapses onto the bed, taking three attempts to kick off his boots until Castiel just sighs and pulls them off for him. He knows it, he just doesn't care.

"C'mere--" Dean slurs, fucked out and wrung out and patting the bed next to him.

Castiel slides his coat off before lying next to him, hand on Dean's arm. "Sleep, Dean," he says softly, "I will be here when you awake."

And Dean does.


End file.
